Gait
by fredesrojo
Summary: Or, in which Gibbs turns into a three-minute wonder. Slightly AU, take on their first time if it hadn't occurred in Marseilles.


Blue eyes squinted through the dark of night, searching fruitlessly for a glimpse of the person he was looking for.

Where the hell was she? He had called half an hour ago. At this rate, Ducky was going to beat her here, and that was taking into account the ME's apparently abysmal map-reading skills.

She didn't sound like she was home when she answered the phone, but he _knew_ tonight was her night off.

What the hell was taking so goddamn long?

Better question.

What did she do on her nights off?

He ignored the pricking little thought at the back of his head that suggested she'd probably been out on a date and scanned the area again, scowl firmly set on his face.

And suddenly, she was there.

"What's up, Gibbs?"

One little huff of warm breath, combined with her throaty drawl right next to his ear, and he grew half hard, trying valiantly to disguise the fact by fisting his hands in his pockets, which hopefully drew her attention away from the partial tent forming at the front of his trousers.

His brain ceased functioning properly for the next minute and a half as he attempted to process what she was wearing.

Jenny was wearing a dress. A red dress with black heels and _ohGod_ she was wearing nylons (or maybe they were stockings) and his brain was going to short circuit right there.

Rather stupidly, he attempted to fill the gaping silence.

"Where were you?" His eyes traced the hem of her dress, which stopped _just_ short of her knees, and then he was looking at her knees and he needed to get away and calm himself down before something potentially catastrophic occurred and he threw her up against that brick wall _right over there_ and fucked her senseless.

What was the rule he had about co-workers again? Date them? Don't date them? Fuck them senseless against the nearest hard surface?

Jenny gave him an odd look. "Gibbs."

"Huh?"

"I asked what we have."

He grunted. Well, shit, he had to take his hands out of his pockets. _C'mon, Gunny, calm down. She's your partner, for Chrissake._

Think of non-sexy-redheaded-partner-things. Puppies, Barry Manilow, Director Morrow naked, cats, Victoria Mallard naked on a cold day…there we go.

He pulled his notebook out of his pocket and began reading off the relevant details; feeling strangely detached from it all as the words tumbled past his lips in what he hoped was his normal gruff and detached tone.

Jenny nodded at the right places and began walking around, asking questions of her own—he wasn't entirely sure he was answering them properly but Jenny didn't seem to notice anything odd.

Well, maybe he spoke too soon.

Jenny glared at him, her head tilted to the side. "What the hell is your problem?"

Gibbs tried and failed for his usual non-committal grunt, shrugging one shoulder.

"You keep _looking _at me weird."

The words escaped his mouth before he could stop them. "Where were you?"

She frowned, drawing his attention to her painted scarlet lips. "Out."

"You had a date."

"Yes."

"Sorry you had to leave." He lied through his teeth, inwardly seething at the fact that Jenny had a _date_.

"Yeah, me too." Jenny's frown deepened. "What is _with_ you? Did someone break Rule 23 again?"

"No."

And then Ducky was there (thank _God_) and he was safe from her questioning for the next half hour.

They photographed the scene, bagged and tagged, Ducky packed up the body, and suddenly he realized there was nothing left to do for the night. _Well, shit._

"Wanna get coffee?"

"_What?_"

"Unless you're going home." He ran a calculating eye over her attire. "Got someone waitin' at home?"

Jenny's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "What?"

He gestured, weakly. "You know…your _date_." He spat the word out like it tasted badly, a muscle in his jaw jumping. "You blow him off, or just leave him waiting at home?"

She tilted her head, her eyes wary. "Gibbs."

"Yeah?"

"Stop being a bastard, all right?"

He shrugged and turned away to his car, ignoring the fact that his ears were probably flaming red. His mind whirled, two questions swirling to the forefront on endless repeat. Why did she have to get all dressed up like that? _Especially as she hadn't dressed like that for him. _Why would she go out on a date? _Without him._

Simmering there underneath this inexplicable surge of jealousy was a healthy sense of self-recrimination. _He_ was the one with the rule against dating co-workers. _He_ was the one who'd just emerged from a nasty divorce with empty bank accounts.

"C'mon, I'll buy ya a coffee."

He kept pressing for some imbecilic reason, but he didn't want her to go home alone. Or, even if she wasn't going home to an empty house, he sure as hell didn't want her going home to someone that wasn't him.

"Gibbs…" She looked conflicted.

"C'mon, Jen."

And then he was giving her the puppy dog look, the one that had redheads (and all other color heads) turning and falling at his feet. He _knew_ he was patently irresistible, and he was flaunting it.

"My treat."

Jenny sighed. "Alright."

"I'll drive." He jingled the keys on his finger, grinning crookedly at her now that he'd gotten his way.

She rolled her eyes. "Chauvinist."

* * *

><p>The café was not too crowded, filled only with a few patrons sitting at its quaint little tables.<p>

He paid for their coffee, as promised, while Jenny hunted for a free table.

He tried not to eye the rising hem of her dress as she sat down, crossing her legs primly.

He almost choked on his coffee when he noticed that the hem of her dress had ridden up _just_ enough for him to see the edge of a stocking, fervently thanking whatever deities that happened to be paying attention that there was a table covering his lap.

"So…"

Jenny snorted. "You do small talk now, Gibbs? I thought strong and silent was more your thing."

He forced down another boiling sip of coffee. "Where were you tonight?"

Eyebrows contracted over pretty green eyes in a frown. "Why are you so obsessed with my personal life all of a sudden?"

"I'm, uh…not."

"Why do you care, then?"

He forced a crooked grin. "I'm curious."

She laughed. "Living vicariously, are we?"

And suddenly, the grin was gone, his gaze deadly serious.

"You're developing an interesting habit of avoiding the question."

"You'redeveloping an _annoying_ habit of being a chauvinistic bastard." Jenny paused, smirking with her head tilted to the side. "Well…more of a bastard than usual."

His fingers tightened around the coffee cup, twitching in a steady rhythm.

He couldn't _do_ this. She was his partner, she was young, she was…fucking _hot_.

"Gibbs?"

It was the plaintive note in her voice that ended up being his undoing. He lunged across the table, uncaring of finesse or audience, and kissed her.

After that, everything else just fell into place.

They left the café quickly, his hand wrapped around her arm, both of them walking (stumbling, really) to his car. She executed a rather skillful tripping move that had him pressed up against the car, her body leaning against his as her lips tangled with his own.

He broke away to issue a token protest, his chest heaving like a bellows. "Jen…"

"Yes…" She leaned up on tiptoes, her lips latching on to the side of his neck. Any thoughts of acting the gentleman fled in screaming surrender when she licked a slow line up to his earlobe, teeth catching on the too-sensitive skin.

"Where?"

"Mine is closer."

"_Fuck_, yes." He fumbled in his pocket for the keys, defeating the locks after a few clumsy tries.

He drove to hers like a man possessed, squealing through two almost red lights before managing a haphazard parking job outside her townhouse.

Jenny barely let him get out the door of the truck before she attacked again, all lips and teeth and tongue and holy-damn this was going to end before they even started if she didn't back off right now.

Rough hands gripped her waist, shoving away as he struggled to draw a proper breath. "Can't…" His voice was ragged as he gestured to the front door. "Inside."

They stumbled up the front walk, still almost connected at the lips, her fingers gripped tight in his jacket, his hand tangled in her hair.

He finally gained the upper hand on her when they made it through the door as he reversed their earlier positions and lifted her up against the wall of her foyer, almost ludicrously happy she was wearing a dress.

His hands fumbled with the hem of her dress, gliding it up her thighs slowly, a low groan rumbling from his mouth when callused fingertips hit the top of her stockings.

"Damn…_Jen_." His lips latched on to the side of her neck, tongue and stubble rasping against her pulse point. Jenny whimpered low, her nails scratching at the nape of his neck. Callused fingers danced past the stockings, teasing and testing and encountering…

"Jen?"

"Would've ruined the line of the dress." She dropped a hand, efficiently dropping his belt and trousers. Manicured fingers lingered over the waistband of his boxers, tracing the warm skin there. Gibbs groaned, biting down lightly against her shoulder.

Jenny decided they had waited long enough right around the same time he did, jerking the waist of the plaid boxers out and down before wrapping her arms back around his shoulders. "Now, Gibbs."

He fumbled briefly, shoving the hem of her dress well up and out of the way, fingers probing and teasing long enough to ensure she was ready before he lifted her slightly and thrust home all at once, moaning low against her neck. Jenny let out a high pitched gasp, her head slamming back against the wall.

She dug her nails into his skin through the thin material of his polo, lips pressing messily against the side of his head. "Gibbs…_Gibbs_." Her head hung forward panting against his forehead as he shifted his grip, hitching her legs higher around his waist. "Faster."

He grunted and complied with another change in position that had her head thrown back again, a long choked moan escaping her throat. It was evident already by the tingle starting low in his spine that this wasn't going to last long, and he wormed a hand in between them in an attempt to move her along. Jenny gasped sharply, her body bowing away from him, and came with a protracted moan of his name. Gibbs growled low, lifting her higher still, and with three stuttering thrusts finished with a groan.

They remained like that—sweat slicked and half dressed against the wall—until Gibbs finally released the grip he had on the back of her thighs and pulled away, setting her down carefully. Jenny shivered at the loss of warmth, her legs shaky as she stood back to her full height.

"Damn." She chuckled quietly and brushed a few flyaway strands of hair out of her face, grinning when he finally raised his eyes. "That was good."

Gibbs smirked, reaching down to right his clothing. He straightened as he did up his belt, a smug look on his face.

Jenny clicked her tongue. "Oh don't look so satisfied with yourself, Mister Three Minute."

"Hey!" Blue eyes narrowed in an affronted glare.

She inspected her manicured nails calmly, a lazy smirk curling her lips. "Might have even been two and a half, really."

Jenny squealed with laughter as he growled and lunged forward, slinging her over his shoulder. He stomped up the stairs resolutely, pinching her thigh in retaliation when she knocked her fists against his back.

"Gibbs! Hey, put me down!"

"Take it back."

"No!"

He carried her like that into the bedroom, dropping her unceremoniously onto the bed.

She rolled her eyes, reaching up to tug his shirt collar sharply and upset his balance, knocking him to the bed. Just as her lips sealed over his, she muttered under her breath. "Men…always have something to prove."

Gibbs smirked, reversing their positions with an easy flip. He rocked into the cradle of her thighs, grinning at the whimpered moan against his lips. "You're the one who can't pace herself."

* * *

><p>"Mornin', Shepard." Chris Pacci gave his teammate a friendly grin as she shuffled in to the bullpen early Monday morning, coffee cup held between her hands like it was the very gift of life.<p>

Jenny mumbled something unintelligible and walked with a strange, uneven gait to her desk. Will Decker sidled in from the break room, hitching a hip up on Pacci's desk.

Decker and Pacci eyed her shrewdly. Will exchanged a glance with Chris and then cleared his throat. "Hey, Shep."

She dropped into her seat with a wince, her purse discarded on the floor. "_What_, Decker?" So far, she had completely ignored the fourth person in the bullpen—who seemed equally dependent on his extra-large coffee and had yet to say a word.

"Why're you walkin' weird?"

Inexplicably, Jenny growled low in her throat and glared across the divide to Gibbs' desk, green eyes focused balefully on his bent head.

"_Men."_

* * *

><p><em><strong>I would apologize for this, but I'm not very sorry.<strong>_

_**First update in a while! Yay!**_

_**Reviews are fun.**_

_**-meg**_


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